


Bloody Hands

by rosesandribbons



Series: FebuWhump 2021 [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Birthday Cake, Frosting, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandribbons/pseuds/rosesandribbons
Summary: Peter ran to the microwave as fast as he could, and just as he opened the door of it, the bag exploded, coating everything around it in red frosting. Peter’s ears were ringing as he looked down at his hands, his blood covered hands, and panic settled deep in his chest.FebuWhump day two: Bloody Hands
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: FebuWhump 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138787
Comments: 6
Kudos: 189





	Bloody Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s day two. Thank you guys for the support on my last story! The kind comments have really kept me motivated! 
> 
> But to the guest who decided to leave a review on my FanFiction profile saying, “So... he has the Spidey-sense, but he still gets stabbed? Do you even know how his spider-sense works? Lmao you’ve probably only seen the movies, cause nobody who’s read even a single Spider-Man comic would write this”, and decided to delete before I got a chance to reply, please read the following. 
> 
> The context clues stated that Peter was hungry and bored, and was also just assuming that his spidey-sense was just going off because of the man in front of him. No, that may not be exactly how it works, but I have done my fair share of research on the characters I write about. In fact you are correct, I have only seen the movies because I don’t have access to any Spider-Man comics, but that doesn’t mean I have no clue what I am writing about. Sometimes authors will modify the facts from a universe to successfully get the outcome of the plot they wanted. I was well aware of what I was doing, and as all my other readers did, you move on because that is not the point of the story. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome, extremely so, but this was not that. This was hate, and any further hate comments on my profile will be immediately deleted. 
> 
> To all of my other readers, you have been amazing and I can’t thank you enough for the kind words! I hope you enjoy day two of FebuWhump! 

The second Peter stepped into the compound, he quickly flipped onto the ceiling and crawled as quietly as he could past the lab.

He had asked Friday not to alert Mr. Stark when he arrived the next week, and luckily the AI had agreed. Happy had picked Peter up from school without Tony’s knowledge, due to the fact that it was said genius’ birthday and Peter wanted to surprise him.

Tony hadn't even brought up the fact that during lab time last week, whether he didn’t celebrate his birthday or didn’t want Peter to know, the boy hadn’t really cared. He was going to make an Iron Man themed cake for his favorite mentor’s birthday, and no one was going to be able to stop him.

Peter made sure to go to one of the kitchens that Tony wouldn’t show up at before dropping from the ceiling. “Friday, are we all clear?” He whispered as he dropped his backpack onto one of the barstools.

“Boss is still in his lab and is unaware of your presence.” The AI replied.

“Perfect!” the boy said as he pulled out his phone to open the recipe he had found. With a little help from Friday, he was able find all of the ingredients and dishes he would need to make the cake.

Before realizing that he could scoop the flour into the measuring cups, Peter had attempted to dump it in, causing the white powder to pour all over the floor and on his pants. He didn’t even attempt to clean it up because he wanted to get the cake in the oven before anyone caught him, so he left it on the floor, which soon led to flour footprints being tracked all over the kitchen.

Once Peter had the batter baking in the oven, he finished making the buttercream frosting that would be used to stick the layers of the cake together. Afterwards, he carried all of the dirty dishes to the sink and started to wash them when the oven beeped to signal the cakes were done.

After almost an hour and a half after the brunette had arrived, he was able to pull the cake pans out of the oven, surprising himself with how well they looked. Peter was worried that he had picked up his Aunt’s terrible cooking skills, but it turns out he didn’t do half bad. The plain vanilla cake came out of the oven gold and fluffy, and he had never seen one that looked so  _ not burnt.  _

Leaving the cakes to cool for a few moments, Peter finished washing the dishes and put them back to their original places. He still had the ingredients left on the counter, but ignored them in favor of finishing the cake. He frosted the sides and top of each layer, sticking the two together and smoothing them out the best he could.

Now for the fun part.

Peter popped the rest of the buttercream he had left into the microwave to make it runnier, and then separated it into two bowls. He then mixed in red food die to the first bowl and yellow to the second, going off of the red and gold color scheme from Mr. Starks suit. Then, he poured the gold mixture into a Ziploc bag and cut one of the corners off, using it as a makeshift piping bag to decorate the edges of the cake. Once the boy had the sides decorated in different golden patterns, he set the bag aside to move on to using the red.

He planned on making an Iron Man helmet out of the frosting to top off the cake, so he quickly poured the leftover buttercream into a different bag and cut off one of the corners. After attempting to get the frosting out of the bag, Peter realized that he had probably let it sit out for too long. He opened the door to the microwave once again and set the bag inside, closing it and setting a thirty second timer.

Had Peter been less focused on getting the cake done so quickly, he would have  realized how bad of an idea that was.

The boy moved back to the kitchen island to throw the remnants of the gold frosting into the garbage, and just after the bag hit the bottom of the bin, he started to  hear a low popping sound.

Glancing up, he realized that the sound was coming from the microwave, his eyes widening when he understood his mistake. Peter ran to the microwave as fast as he could, and just as he opened the door of it, the bag exploded, coating everything around it in red frosting. Peter’s ears were ringing as he looked down at his hands, his blood covered hands, and panic settled deep in his chest.

Suddenly he was a fourteen-year-old kid again, back in that god damned bodega he had tried so hard to forget. The man had pointed the gun directly at him, aiming right for his heart, and before he could even react, a gunshot sounded.

A gunshot sounded and he waited for the pain that should have been shooting through his chest, but he didn’t feel anything. He didn’t feel anything, but he heard something.

_ Thud. _

The sound of a body hitting the floor, falling directly in front of Peter’s feet. He had looked down to see his uncle with a bullet wound right in the middle of his chest. Peter fell to his knees, tears already falling from his face as he put his hands on the man's shoulders, shaking him, needing him to open his eyes. Peter sobbed after getting no response, pushing his hands against the man's chest as the blood only seemed to move faster.

“No... no, no, no, no, no, no! Ben... Ben please, please wake up! Open your eyes! C’mon!” Peter screamed as hands tugged on his shoulders, pulling him away from his uncle, but he couldn’t go, he couldn’t leave the man. That bullet was supposed to be his!

His sobs grew louder as he was pulled away from his uncle, the man who had practically raised  him. He was pulled back into strong arms, but he kept screaming and fighting because he needed to get back to his uncle. Needed to help him, to save him.

“Pete, you  gotta calm down, buddy.”

Mr. Stark? What was he doing here? Did he got shot too?

Oh god, oh no, no, no. He couldn’t do it again. Ben was gone and Mr. Stark was gone and there was blood on his hands and it was  _ his fault. _

“Kiddo, c’mon, it’s okay, I need you to breath for me, okay?”

Peter was pulled against something firm and warm and he squeezed his eyes shut, sobbing and fisting whatever fabric was there into his hands.

“You’re safe, it’s okay, you’re in the kitchen at the compound. No one's hurt, we’re all safe, Pete. Just take deep breaths with me.”

The man’s voice started to filter through the fog, pulling Peter out and back to reality. He could hear his mentor taking deep breaths, and Peter did as best he could to follow suit.

“Deep breath in, bud. Count to five, there you go. Let it out, nice and easy. Good job, Pete, you’re doing so good.”

Tony kept coaching Peter through his breathing, and after several minutes the boy was able to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. He was on the kitchen floor, by now basically covered in flour and red frosting, along with Tony.

_ Frosting. Not blood. _

He was curled against his mentor's chest, basically in his lap as the man kept his arms around Peter and rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back. The tears had stopped by now, being replaced by small sniffles that came from the boy without consent. Tony didn’t speak at first, just let the boy gather himself quietly.

“You okay,  Underoos ?” He softly asked after a few minutes.

Peter nodded, mumbling, “’M sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, kiddo. Happens to the best of us,” Tony replied, squeezing Peter a bit tighter. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Peter teared up once again as he thought about the frosting and the cake, the surprise now being ruined because of his own stupidity.

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled, face still hidden in his mentor’s chest.

“It’s not stupid if it gave you that bad of a panic attack, bud.”

Peter sighed, knowing the gig was up now that Tony had seen everything in the kitchen. “I didn’t know what to get you for your birthday because, well, you’re a billionaire and all that. I just wanted to do something special, y’know? And so, I thought maybe I could make you an Iron Man themed cake and surprise you with it, and I got so excited because it was actually looking good and I forgot not to put plastic in the microwave when I was heating up the red frosting, and then it just exploded all over me... and it was on my hands... it just reminded me of Ben...” the boy trailed off after saying his uncles name, the topic still difficult for him to talk about.

Tony’s hand had moved to start carding through Peter’s hair when he could tell the boy was stressing himself out again. “I’m sorry, Pete. I know this kind of stuff is hard, trust me, I know. But it’s nothing to be  embarrassed about. You don’t want to know how many attacks I’ve had myself.”

Peter’s head shot up at that, looking at his mentor in disbelief. “Really?”

Tony huffed at the look on the  boy's face. “Yeah Pete, really. But it’s nothing you need to worry about, okay? You can always come to me with this kind of stuff when you need me. I’m here for you, and you better not forget that. Not many people get to hear that from Tony Stark.”

Peter giggled wetly at his mentor’s words. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Tony said, leaning in closer and whispering in Peter’s ear as if he was telling a secret. “You want to know something that always seems to cheer me up afterwards?” The man asked.

“What?” Peter asked curiously, speaking just as quiet.

“A red and gold, Iron Man themed cake. Whadd’ya say I help you finish off the cake and then we can eat the whole thing while watching  _ Ferris Buellers Day Off.  _ That sound good? _ ” _

Peter smiled while he hopped to his feet and pulled Tony up with him. “That sounds great, Mr. Stark. It’s one of my favorite old movies.” 

“Old!?”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I hope you like my creative titles :) 


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